Part 8

The Ball

Her heart was racing when she rested her forehead against his. Caroline's head was swimming as she sought to catch her breath. A giggle bubbled out of her lips. She could feel his hands curve over her hips, and then his arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer to him.

A small smile belied the low growl as playful. As if he could not help himself, he leaned closer and dropped a quick kiss on the corner of her lips. She should win an award, really. She should have one for patience, because this delight that captivated her now made her feel like floating. How she survived a half decade without this, she would never know. On top of her patience award, one had to give her another for the sheer self discipline she exhibited as she slowly pulled away from that embrace, when all she wanted was to burrow deeper.

When he tried to pull her back, an objection clear in his eyes, Caroline widened hers in warning. He responded by cocking his head and arching up one eyebrow, in silent reminder that he was not one of her students that would fold under a headmistress' glare.

"Not when you look absolutely delicious," he murmured into her ear.

Most definitely not a student. She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle under her palm. It was all she could do to keep herself from barricading the doors. It was their first date, she reminder herself. Lie. Caroline shook herself. Meals together, brought thoughtfully to her, like the mountain to Mohammed, and countless hours on calls no matter the distance or time zones between them.

"You have family and half of Mystic Falls in here," she reminded him.

With another nip at her ear, he sent a shiver down her spine. She would return the tease, one of these days. She would do it when he had something absolutely important, a deal worth eight digits at least, and she would find the most distracting way to throw him off.

Of course, knowing Klaus Mikaelson now and understanding his brazenness, she would not put it past him to throw the deal away or delegate it to his associate so he could turn his full attention on her. She shook her head. This was crazy. He was crazy. No one fell hard, as fast as this. Especially for someone like her.

And then his hand was on her cheek, raising her face to him so he could look into her eyes. "Is something wrong, love?"

Caroline forced a smile, then shook her head. "We have to go."

"Let them wait."

They were no longer teenagers, she told herself. He himself had his own teenage daughter. They had no place acting as if this was some newfound crush or young love. But damned if her heart did not soar at the sparkle in his eyes, as if there was not that thrilling tingle in the base of her spine at the thought that he was as tickled as she was. Like he was the school jock falling for the wallflower, and not a billionaire executive of the largest private construction firm in the entire world.

When finally she was able to convince him, Klaus reached for the doorknob but Caroline stilled his hand. And then she turned to him with a small, secret smile, taking the silk pocket square from his jacket. "You realize that's ornamental, love." She swiped at her lipstick that stained his mouth. When he realized what she was doing, he broke into a huge smile. "Should have left it on. I would delight in the intrigue that would fall over the room, and the horror that would paralyze mother wondering what I'd been up to."

Satisfied that she had removed all traces of her on him, Caroline slid the silk neatly back in his pocket. "I wouldn't say horror. I would even dare to say your mother liked me." At his look of surprise, she tapped the jacket pocket as if sealing the handkerchief in. "Close your mouth, Mr Mikaelson, before you let the flies in."

He was sputtering behind her as she pulled open the door and made her way back to the party.

It was, as far as she recollected, the most she enjoyed being in the company of so many people. The last event she attended, after all, outside those that related to the school, was the worst night of her life. Caroline almost forgot that she was inherently an extrovert, so far had she retreated inside her shell. She had nodded at him before she entered the dining hall—and it was a hall, not a room. Its long table enough to seat forty of their most intimate guests. With such a large family, and the extended parties thrown in the days before the Civil War, the ostentatious nature of the place had made sense.

She wondered how Klaus would set up the hall when he would have dinners with his daughter, long after the guests were gone.

Maybe she was chicken. She had never been that much of a daredevil. When they were young, it was Elena that first ran to the tire swing and threw herself into the lake. Caroline had preferred to wait on the banks, laughing at the antics of her friends. The moment that they were to enter the dining hall, she disengaged their hands and walked ahead of him.

And she should have known that Klaus Mikaelson was a dog with a bone. One could not shake him. Especially not now, she thought, when he knew how she felt. He followed her to where she walked, and then placed a hand on the small of her back and gently propelled her towards the head of the table where he would be, and pulled up a chair to his right for her.

Across the table from her place, Caroline saw Hope beaming at her. She returned the expression.

Servers filed into the room as the guests rose from their seats. The host was finally here, after all, though severely late—but never rude! No, billionaires were never rude. They just had reasons beyond commonfolk's comprehension. Caroline stood as well. She felt warm eyes on her, and glanced over to see Esther Mikaelson watching her knowingly. She flushed. She took a flute of champagne from a server.

A reassuring hand rested on her arm.

"Buck up, headmistress." Caroline looked up to see Rebekah with her brows arched in quiet challenge. Klaus' sister nodded towards him as he began to address his guests. "I haven't seen his smile as genuine in a long while. That, I suspect, is all you." Rebekah hummed low in her throat. "If you can do that, in such a short amount of time, then I suppose I should get used to you."

Caroline watched. There was a light in his eyes, she acknowledged, that had not been present when first he stood at her schoolyard. The thought of it made her smile.

Rebekah continued quietly, so only she would her, "And I should make some effort to like you, shouldn't I?"

Klaus completed his speech of appreciation for the welcome he received. With such a carefully selected guest list, it was only expected to hear the applause and the cheers. His eyes met hers, and he raised his flute to toast her. Caroline watched mesmerized as he tipped the drink to his lips, leaving them glistening. His tongue darted out for the remaining taste on his lips.

Champagne. Champagne would be one of their things, she decided. Caroline sipped her own drink, nothing his gaze flickered to her throat when she swallowed.

What was it that his mother said?

Well, she most certainly felt alive right then.

She was in the midst of family, she thought. Klaus to her left, right at the head of the table. His daughter was to his left, straight across from her. Beside Hope was Kol, delighting his wife with stories about her own teachers, carefully collected and compiled during his short stint at Salvatore. Klaus' mother listened at the fascinating stories. Kol did tell a good tale.

"I fear we should have my brother sign an NDA, wouldn't you agree?" Klaus commented as he leaned over towards her.

Caroline chuckled easily, in complete agreement. She caught Hope's questioning look, the girl cocking her head to the side as her regard deepened. The empty dishes from the first course were bussed away, and the next small starter plates were served before them.

"Try this," he said next. "This is my favorite."

Caroline found a small forkful of smoked salmon in dijon herb dressing offered to her. The flare of Hope's pupils was recognizable. "Klaus," she said, with an inconspicuous shake of her head. Hope muttered a curt excuse and pushed her chair back, then turned to leave. He frowned as he watched his daughter stomp away. "I think you should go and check on her."

"A host does not leave his guests," Esther reminded his son. "It's a teenage tantrum, nothing more."

Caroline bit her bottom lip. During several courses of dinner, she looked towards the empty seat that Hope vacated. She looked amongst them, this family that she had only just stumbled into. Rebekah cut her steak, daintily bringing the smaller pieces of meat to her lips. Kol continued his animated stories, this time making his mother laugh. She watched the pink blood pool under Klaus' meat as he ate.

And then his hand covered her left. She glanced back at him.

"Do you not like how your steak is done?" He waved a server over, but Caroline shook her head. "We have fish, if you'd rather have it. Forgive me. I should have asked. This family is all about protein and iron. Sometimes I forget we are not all the same." At her hesitation, Klaus inclined his head, and the plate was replaced with a fillet of sea bass with buttered asparagus. She had to admit. She preferred it more. Caroline brought a piece to her mouth, but she could taste nothing. Her stomach was tense.

Later, on the dance floor, his hand on the small of his back and the other holding hers, Caroline allowed him to lead her through the music.

"We were having the best evening I've experienced in a while, love," he told her. He brought her closer against him. "What happened?"

She looked up at him, uncertain still. He had been so open about his regard that he had made her head spin from the moment they met. And in that gallery—even if he did not know it, the art that moved her so, told her that he out of everyone would understand her, would know the depths from which she rose, would be the hand that would bring her back to air, to light, life.

But, she thought, shoving the insecurity to the side, Caroline would not let one thing slide.

It did not matter if the vision of her in his head suffered for it.

"You should have done after her," she said, her voice ringing sharp and clear. He stopped in his steps. And there they stood, still, right in the center of the dance floor. They were close enough that only he needed to hear her. "So what if it was some teenage reaction?" she challenged his mother's perspective. "It was real to her."

"Caroline—" He tore his gaze away from her. He looked up to the top of the staircase, right at the balcony railing where, when she turned, Hope stood watching them.

"You're avoiding your daughter," it dawned on her. "Why?" When he seemed as a loss, she continued. "She's beautiful and smart. Sometimes too smart for her own good." Caroline placed a tentative hand on his cheek, so that he would turn back to look at her. "She figured us out within a minute. Did we really think we would be able to keep it from her?"

"I figured Elijah would take care of it," he responded. "My brother always connected better with her."

Caroline gave him a small smile. "We talk, you know. A lot. Your daughter loves calling me in the middle of the night."

His lips curved sadly. "Everyone connects better with her than I do."

"Can you blame her?" Her hand moved from his cheek to his shoulder, and she allowed her body to sway to the music with him. "She's not a kid. She's a teenager who's heard rumors about you over the years you were away. One time, I know she said that one of your siblings said you'd gone completely bonkers."

"Damn Kol. It's always Kol."

And Caroline laughed. "I can see that." She could not help it. Her fingers pushed a curl that fell out of place over his forehead. "Yet, standing here... you seem only normal crazy to me."

"High praise, indeed."

"You're the same kind of normal crazy that flustered parents get, when they know their kids are growing way too fast, and they're not ready to face it."

Klaus released a deep sigh. "You're the professional, Miss Forbes. What do you suggest?"

"You play a magnificent flirt, Mr Mikaelson, but you and I both know you moved to Mystic Falls to get your relationship with Hope back." It was with reluctant that he nodded his head. "So instead of wasting your whole evening on me, I suggest you get back to your most important job and talk to your daughter."

When he looked ready to protest, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "We're not done, Caroline. Don't leave." He stepped back, then turned towards the staircase. He looked back at her. "You'll wait?"

Caroline nodded. "However long it takes," she returned to him his vow from the gallery. She watched as he took the steps so fast he almost seemed like a blur.

At the top of the steps, he stopped in front of his daughter. Caroline turned away to give them a semblance of privacy. She almost jumped in surprise at the sight of Esther Mikaelson hanging her a flute of champagne.

"Well done, dear."

Caroline licked her lips with nervous energy before taking the drink from Klaus' mother.

"It wouldn't have been my approach. My children learned their place early in life. But my sweet granddaughter had too much love around her that she tends to forget her place at times."

Suddenly, she was filled with overwhelming sadness for these billionaires, seeing them in her mind's eye—children wrapped in luxury, trapped in their gilded bedrooms. Behaved, disciplined, waiting for attention.

"I fear your parenting style is much too affected by your job. You serve children."

"I've dedicated my life to give them the best education and school experience they need."

Esther waved it away like it was unimportant. "My son will take care of this need you seem to have to feel valuable."

Caroline controlled her tongue. Instead, she used humor. After all, who was it who said that humor was the weapon of the soul for self-preservation. Why did it feel, after such a bond she thought she had shared with the woman mere hours ago, she all of a sudden felt her own dignity at stake the more time she spent with the heiress that bankrolled Mikaelson Enterprises?

"Your son and I are on our first date," Caroline pushed back. "Barely acquaintances. I do not see him changing hearts and minds."

"Go ahead and tell yourself that, my dear."

Esther Mikaelson turned and made her way through the array of guests. Caroline took several deep breaths. A few of the guests milled about, and she found herself looking back at Rebekah Mikaelson standing there watching with amusement. Klaus' sister made her way over to Caroline with a smirk.

"First lesson. Never let your guard down around a Mikaelson."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "And where were these lessons the day your brothers choppered in uninvited onto my lawn?"

"They were harmless. The worst they could have done was charmed the pants off you."

She scoffed. "I'm too smart to be seduced by Klaus Mikaelson."

Rebekah's smirk turned into a full-blown grin. "And that's why he likes you," she exclaimed, proud of her discovery. "Not too many women can resist him. You should see the long line of Parisian women in my industry quivering at the slightest hint that Nik could come for a visit. Dozens of models whose hearts are going to break once they find out that my brother is head over heels for a schoolteacher."

She did not bother to correct her. Caroline wondered what was inherently wrong with these Mikaelson women that they kept going back there. She glanced back up the stairs.

"Worried about my brother, or my niece?"

"I think they can each hold their own," Caroline answered.

~ o ~ o ~ o ~

If looks could kill, he would be assassinated on the spot.

Poor Caroline Forbes, he thought. Someone was bound to investigate her. First, widowed on the day of her wedding. And now, a murdered billionaire on their first date. She would be prime suspect, and he would not be there to defend her. Some of the more salacious rags would call her a Black Widow. And damn if that did not make her sound so illicit and sexy.

Klaus forced the thought back, deep, deep in the recesses of his mind. It was wholly inappropriate, dammit it to hell. He was sent up here to settle things with this daughter that apparently gossiped to her headmistress that her father was bonkers. He still had to deal with Kol on that. Or Bekah. To be honest, it sounded like something either of those two would use in equal measure.

They entered the study, and Klaus pulled up a seat so that they could settle in and face each other.

Hope—the apple of his eye—thrust out her chin and glared daggers at him.

"I called dad." She meant Elijah, of course. "He won't answer the phone."

No, he supposed that his big brother would let Hope's call roll into voicemail. Elijah knew well that this was Klaus' time with the daughter that he missed for most of her life. And this was the night of the ball. Elijah had dealt with teething, with chickenpox, even with Hope's first period. And now Klaus had the privilege of these teenage tantrums for once.

"What's wrong, Hope? I thought we were having a good time."

The rebellious look did not abate. Idly, he thought it was lucky for the world's oppressive regimes that his daughter was born far away from any of them. She would incite war with her stubbornness. If only he were not right now the dictator to be toppled in her eyes.

"I thought you were being friendly with Mrs Salvatore because you wanted me to have a good stay at school," she threw at him.

"Hope, you're fifteen now."

"So?"

Klaus crossed his arms across his chest. "You're old enough to realize that the world doesn't revolve around you."

He expected a spitfire, and maybe a little bit of yelling. Instead, his daughter looked crestfallen. "Mrs Salvatore is really, really nice, dad," she said to him, as if needing to convince him, as if pleading for him to understand.

And just because she was not picking up a fight, his tone grew gentler. He allowed, "She is. Much nicer than you or me." He was encouraged at the emphatic way she nodded. "Much nicer than anyone in this family. Sometimes I wonder why she even agreed to hang out with us."

Hope gave a self-deprecating smile. "True. I was always surprised that she took my calls and stayed on so long."

"That's why we need to make the most of it, before she discovers she can do better than us," he added conspirationally, teasingly. "Did you know she prefers to be called Miss Forbes?"

Hope shook her head. "I think I heard her introduce herself as Miss Forbes sometimes. But everyone's gotten used to calling her Mrs Salvatore, and she hasn't really bothered to correct any of us."

"I think that's just because Caroline doesn't want to make any of you feel you're wrong and make you uncomfortable. So she'd accept a name she'd rather leave behind than put that burden on you kids."

"Doesn't she like being called Mrs Salvatore anymore?"

Klaus shook his head. "I think it keeps pulling her back to when she was the saddest, when her husband died."

"Oh. Well that's stupid then," Hope decided. His brows slammed together. "Silly. I mean silly." That was better, but not that much. "Why does she need to care so much about correcting the students, if our mistake is making her sad?"

"I think that's something we'll need to help her with, sweetheart." Hope nodded in agreement. "And we've become good friends now. She's Caroline to me." He leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. "And she reminded me that you are too smart for your own good sometimes. So I know you can tell—I like her, and I think she likes me too."

There was a long pause. Klaus waited for his daughter to process the information. Finally, Hope reminded him, "You left mom."

He softened. Because now, with this talk, at least he was beginning to understand where his daughter was coming from. "I was never with your mom, Hope. You're old enough to hear that. Uncle Elijah and your mom are happy together."

"You're ruining everything."

"Sweetheart—"

Abruptly, Hope rose and ran out of the study. He rose to his feet and walked over to the French doors. Klaus pulled them open and stepped outside onto the balcony, letting the breeze in. He did not hear the entrance, but felt it when her hand rested on his back. He turned to look at her when she stopped right beside him.

She learned her head on his shoulder. Her hand fell away to interwine with his. "Is this okay?" she whispered.

He buried his nose in her hair, then pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "It's more than okay." After a long moment of silence, he sighed. "I don't know how you do what you do, with how many children you're responsible for. I'm dealing with just one, and I'm ready to wave a white flag."

She moved her body so she could press up flush against him. Klaus rested his hands on her hips and pulled her closer to him. "Tell me what happened." And he did, the words spilling from him like a confession. Where he expected judgment, instead he received a sympathetic nod. "I could speak with her," she started. And for a split second he thought it would solve his problem. After all, she was the expert, the professional.

"But…" he prompted, hearing it unspoken.

"But I think you need to really get to know your daughter. Show her who you are. She sounds like she doesn't know the charming guy I know. You never showed it to her." Her thumb traced his lower lip. "If you show her a fraction of the sweet, generous, thoughtful man you showed me, I promise you—she'll know you're incapable of ruining something so good."

What the hell had he done, he wondered, to stumble upon something so bright? He needed to know, because he would make it a point to do it over and over and over again. So he would not lose this, not lose her.

She was so bright—too bright for this family—that she blinded him.

Klaus rested his forehead against hers. She moved first, leaned forward, and he felt her breath against his mouth. And then her lips teased him, so he met her kiss with his own.

"I'm glad you're here, Caroline."

tbc